


Like A Pastel Masterpiece

by girlwithaplan



Category: Triple Frontier (2019)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, sweet frankie, the smut is not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-19 01:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29618427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlwithaplan/pseuds/girlwithaplan
Summary: A trip to the farmer's market and general domesticity with Frankie.
Relationships: Francisco "Catfish" Morales/Reader, Francisco "Catfish" Morales/You
Comments: 9
Kudos: 24





	Like A Pastel Masterpiece

A weird dream woke you up out of a dead sleep. You couldn’t  _ breathe _ suddenly; it startled you so much that you sat straight up, gasping for air. You couldn’t see much in the darkness, but your bedroom door was wide open, not how you’d left it. And the other side of your bed was empty, also not how it’d been when you fell asleep. You swallowed hard, trying not to panic, surely Frankie was just in the bathroom or something, right? A quick glance at the clock told you it was 5:30 in the morning. It felt like your heart might beat out of your chest as you listened for him, but heard nothing. 

Slam! A door shut in the house and you shuddered. You knew it was probably all those true crime shows you watched, but being alone in your room right then was unsettling. The low creaking of the wooden stairs leading up to the bedroom nearly made you jump, and someone was definitely climbing up them slowly, trying not to startle you. Convinced something was wrong, you croaked out, voice rough from sleep, 

“Frankie!?”

He was in the room and on the bed next to you the moment after you said it. Your whole body sagged with relief and you felt tears pricking your eyes. Frankie looked panicked when he asked,

“What’s wrong, baby? Are you okay?” 

Nodding, you swallowed hard to push back the swell of dread that had risen, making your chest feel tight. Frankie smoothed your hair back away from your face and ducked down to look in your eyes before he asked, 

“What is it?” 

Sniffling, you told him, 

“I had a really weird dream and then you weren’t here and the door was open and I just...I don’t know I got scared I guess.” 

“There’s nothing here to be scared of, I promise,” he told you and you felt like an idiot for freaking out like that. Embarrassed, you let your head fall forward to hide your face against Frankie’s shoulder and he immediately wrapped you in a hug. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed, never loosening his grip because he knew it grounded you back to the present when you woke up like this, “I’m here, I’ve got you.” 

You let yourself stay in Frankie’s hold until you felt like you could sit up and look at him without losing it. When you were able to make eye contact again, you asked, 

“Why are you up before the sun anyway?” Frankie leaned in to kiss you softly before he answered, 

“Well as much as I don’t like to see you upset, I was going to wake you up anyway.” You leaned away from him to click on the lamp beside the bed and he got up to start rifling through your clothes in the closet. A pair of leggings and a simple white vneck tshirt came flying at you. He was now on his knees, looking through your shoes when he finally answered, 

“You know that farmer’s market I’ve been telling you about? The one I always go to?” 

“Is that today?” you asked, laughing a little as you started to change from your nightshirt into the outfit your boyfriend had tossed at you. Frankie had told you about this particular farmer’s market so many times you felt like you’d already been there. You were on your feet pulling your leggings up when Frankie came back to you holding socks and sneakers. You extended your hand to take them from him but he shook his head and gently pushed you to sit back down. 

“I can put my shoes on,” you told him, smiling in spite of your teasing tone, “I know how to tie them and everything.” 

“I know you can,” Frankie told you, gaze concentrated on the laces he was tying, “but let me do it for you just this once.” You sighed but didn’t protest anymore as he finished tying your other shoe and patted your leg so you’d stand up. 

“Can’t imagine why you picked these leggings,” you said, intent on teasing him still as you walked to the bathroom to brush your teeth and pull your hair up. Frankie was right on your heels and you let out a squeak of surprise when he squeezed your ass in his big hands before hugging you from behind. 

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he said, voice muffled in your shoulder. 

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with how much you like looking at my butt,” you assured him, reaching behind you to pat the cap that was already on his head. He really was  _ ready _ to go. He didn’t reply, just kept nuzzling into your neck while you did the bare minimum to get out of the house. 

…

When you’d first met Frankie he was so shy, you’d never have imagined he’d be such a cuddle monster. But after a few months together, when Frankie started staying with you more and especially after you’d moved in with him, he was almost always touching you. He was more hesitant with PDA, he would hold your hand or put an arm around you, but behind closed doors he was a handsy menace. 

You wanted to read? Frankie’s head was in your lap. You wanted to watch TV? Frankie was spooning you or giving you puppy eyes so you’d sit in his lap. You wanted to eat dinner? Frankie’s ankle was hooked around yours. Good luck trying to sleep without half of Frankie’s weight pressing against you. Not that you minded, on the contrary, your former partners had always said you were too clingy. With Frankie, there was no such thing. 

You’d told him about it once, the two of you were watching a movie, your back to his chest on the couch under a blanket. It was a cold night, but Frankie ran hot so he didn’t like to turn the heat up too high unless he absolutely had to. 

“What’s on your mind?” he’d asked, reaching up to pause the tv. You guessed you had been pretty quiet and not at all paying attention to what you were supposed to be watching. 

“It’s not much,” you lied, leaning more of your body against him. Frankie moved so he could see your face and gave you a look like he didn’t believe you. He didn’t press, though, just waited in silence until you cracked. 

“I was just thinking about how the last guy I dated would never have done this,” you confessed, looking at him to gauge his response. His face twisted into a frown and he asked, 

“What? Watch a movie on the couch?” You shook your head and explained, 

“No, this,” you gestured to the arm Frankie had slung around your waist. He looked even more confused and asked, 

“Hold you?” 

“Yeah,” you laughed but there was no humor behind it, “he only wanted to touch me if we were having sex. Otherwise I was being needy or too much.” Frankie looked mad now and he flipped you around so you were pressed chest to chest. 

“That’s bullshit,” he spat out, “he sounds like a dick.” You smiled broadly at your boyfriend and kissed his nose. 

“He was, but you’re not.” 

That conversation had led to the dreamiest night with Frankie. He’d held you close and the two of you made out on the couch until you couldn’t take it anymore and dragged him into the bedroom. He was hesitant because of what you’d said, he didn’t want you to think he was touching you just to get you into bed. You assured him that you wanted him and he told you to lay back and let him do the work. He wouldn’t speed up even when you pleaded with him. 

“I wanna take care of you, baby,” he’d said, caging you under his body and moving his hips in slow thrusts and quieting you with soft kisses and whispers in your ear. You’d both come undone together, slowly and sweetly, with no urgency. It was the first time in your life you felt like you were making love, not just fucking. The feeling was intoxicating and you whispered to him late that night, when you were both cleaned up and sleepy, snuggling between the sheets,

“I love you, Frankie.” You could feel him smile where his face was buried in your hair. 

“Mi amor eres mi vida,” he whispered back, pressing his lips against your forehead before you both drifted into a peaceful, satisfied sleep. 

...

Today, you looked at yourself in the mirror, hair tied in a loose ponytail and no makeup, tired eyes. Part of you wanted to put a little something on, but the other knew Frankie was ready to go and he’d say you looked beautiful regardless. Plus, it wasn’t even 6am and the thought of curling your eyelashes was too much to handle. 

You’d told Frankie to let you brush your teeth in peace and go start the truck, so you grabbed your phone and headed out the door. When you opened the door and slid in beside him, Frankie asked, 

“Ready to go?” 

You nodded back at him and he started to drive while you’d let your head rest back against the seat. He’d told you before it was a little bit of a drive to get out to the farmer’s market and you’d almost decided to sleep when you felt Frankie nudging your hand with something plastic. You opened your eyes and he carefully gave you a to-go cup that smelled like coffee. 

“Thank you,” you said brightly, taking a sip. Frankie didn’t say anything, just rested his hand on your leg and kept driving in the comfortable silence. It was early enough that you got to watch most of the sunrise while you drove. He’d taken a back road you’d never been down and all you could see for miles was green pasture and morning sky. 

“Frankie,” you said, lacing your fingers with his, “this is beautiful.” He brought your hand up to his mouth and kissed it before he said, 

“I thought you might like it.” He let your intertwined hands fall to rest on his lap and you were quiet the rest of the way, content to sip your coffee and watch the sky. 

Once the sun had fully risen, Frankie pulled into a small parking lot and parked under a big shady tree. On the other end of the lot, you could see several white tents set up with signs advertising the produce and goods. It was much larger than you’d imagine and Frankie nearly jumped out of the truck when he parked. 

You laughed as you got out of the truck and watched him run around to your side, pouting at you.

“I was gonna get you out!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. Since the opportunity present itself, you slipped your arms around Frankie while his hands were up and grinned at him when you said, 

“I already let you dress me and put my shoes on, I have to do at least one thing myself.” Frankie kept the pout on his face but he hugged you back, 

“Okay but that’s the only thing for today.” 

“Okay,” you agreed, going up on your tip toes to give him a kiss. Frankie tightened his arms around you to lift your feet off the ground for a second, causing you to squeal and cling to him. 

“I wouldn’t let you fall,” Frankie promised, finally breaking into a smile for you and setting you carefully back on your feet. 

“I know,” you told him and stepped back only for Frankie to grab your hand and start heading toward the tents. As you walked, Frankie pointed out the various areas of the market, one side had produce, another had plants and flowers, and a third had homemade goods like candles and soap. You told Frankie to lead the way and he walked toward the produce section first, making a beeline for a table covered in fruit. 

“Francisco!” a man called out, coming around the table to grab Frankie’s hand and clap him on the shoulder. You could see from your vantage point that your boyfriend’s neck was flushed, not many people called him by his first name. 

“John,” Frankie said politely, nodding his head, “how’s the family?” 

“They’re good!” John exclaimed, smiling widely, “growing like weeds and eating me out of house and home.” The exuberant stranger turned his attention to you and said to Frankie, 

“Who do we have here, Francisco?” John winked at you, clearly intent on turning your boyfriend’s face as red as some of the tomatoes you could see on a nearby table. Frankie introduced you to John and you extended your own hand for him to shake. 

“My, my,” John continued, ambling back around his table, “What is a pretty thing like you doing with a guy like this?” He jerked his thumb in Frankie’s direction and you grabbed Frankie’s hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze before responding, 

“He puts up with me so I return the favor.” John’s eyes went wide at your joke and he slapped his knee as he laughed. Frankie bumped his hip into yours so you’d look at him and his grateful smile made your heart swell. 

Looking over the table, you released Frankie’s hand so you could pick up a peach and bring it your nose and you nearly moaned with how good it smelled. John’s voice piped back in, 

“Best peach crop I’ve had in years, y’all want a pint? I’ve got so many I’m practically giving them away.” You nodded and John handed you a cardboard basket you could fill with peaches. He waved Frankie around the table and told him, “I didn’t have many blackberries but I saved them just in case you showed up today.” 

One by one, you selected the best-smelling peaches to add to your basket and listened as Frankie and John talked about the weather and the crops and you couldn’t help but smile at this little piece of your boyfriend’s life he’d let you into so willingly. But he was generous like that, he rarely held himself back from you and you found yourself getting emotional over it. 

You looked up to blink your sudden tears back. Frankie noticed and moved back to your side because he always noticed. He gave you a questioning look and you shook your head. Frankie paid John for the produce and John made Frankie promise to bring you around more often. He’d given you a large box to put your purchases in and you knew better than to offer to carry it. You followed Frankie to another table where he added corn and tomatoes to the box and you stayed quiet, content to watch him. 

Once he’d paid for those, he told you he was going to take the box to the truck and he’d meet you by the flowers and plants. It wasn’t far to the truck, so you decided to sit on a bench and wait for him. The sun was fully in the sky now and you tilted your face up to it, closing your eyes and breathing deep. You heard Frankie’s approaching footsteps before he sat down next to you and put a hand on your leg. Turning, you looked at him and he asked quietly, 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “why?” He squeezed your thigh and said, 

“Earlier when I was talking to John, you had that scrunched up look you get when you’re trying not to cry. So I just wanted to make sure.”  _ Oh _ , it came back to you suddenly and you couldn’t help the blush that spread across your face when you admitted, 

“I wasn’t upset I was just…” you trailed off for a second and Frankie scooted closer to you and put an arm around your shoulders while he waited for you to speak. 

“I was just thinking about you and how much I love you,” you admitted sheepishly, decidedly not looking at him. But Frankie wouldn’t let you get away with that, so he put a finger under your chin to lift it and you were surprised to see his eyes shining like yours had earlier. 

“Oh no not you too,” you chuckled, reaching up to brush your thumb along his cheek. He laughed lightly and leaned in close so he could whisper, 

“I love you too.” before capturing your lips in a surprisingly passionate kiss, considering you were in public. Frankie didn’t usually kiss like this outside your home or his truck if he was feeling frisky, but you certainly weren’t going to stop him. You moved your hand from his cheek to the hair peeking out from under his cap and tugged on it once, hard, just to see his reaction. His breath stuttered before he pulled away and looked down at you with blown pupils. 

“Ma’am,” he said, tone light and eyes mischievous, “there are people here.” 

“And?” you asked innocently, removing all but one of your fingers from his hair, twirling a strand around your index finger before releasing it. Frankie used the arm he still had around you to pull your face close to his and he whispered directly into your ear, 

“If you wanted me you could’ve just said so this morning.” You shuddered before you whispered back, 

“I always want you, baby.” He inhaled sharply through his nose and kissed side of your head before he pulled back, 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” You giggled and extracted yourself from his hold, standing up and saying over your shoulder, 

“C’mon, I was promised flowers,” before you started walking away from him. Frankie barked out a laugh and quickly caught up with you, throwing his arm back around you to pull you into his side while you perused.There were so many beautiful arrangements and potted plants and seedlings, but you must’ve lingered too long on a big bunch of sunflowers because the next thing you knew they were in your arms and Frankie was handing cash to someone. You told Frankie it was too expensive but he wouldn’t hear it.

He handed you the keys and told you he’d be right back and you trudge ahead, carrying the lightweight but bulky flowers in both hands. Once you reached the truck, you placed them in the box with the produce and used a bit of rope that was already in the truck bed to secure them for the drive. Frankie was back as soon as you were done, holding a small brown bag. 

He nodded to his truck and you both got in. Reaching over him, you started the truck and sat back to ask, 

"Okay I give what is in the bag?” He still held it close to him and told you to close your eyes and open your mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him but did as instructed. As soon as you did, he popped something covered in sugar into your mouth and waited for your response. After you chewed for a minute you opened your eyes and asked with your mouth full, 

“Donuts?” 

Frankie nodded and popped one in his own mouth. 

“You like them?” He asked, already eating another. 

In response, you leaned over and pressed your sugar-coated lips against his and, while he was distracted, you eased the bag out from his hands and broke the kiss. Frankie stares at you in shock for a second before throwing his head back in laughter. 

“I swear,” he said, still chuckling, “you are something else today.” 

He backed the truck out and pulled onto the road, holding his hand out expectantly and you obediently placed another donut in his hand. The two of you ate your treats in silence for awhile and you shared the last of your cold coffee with Frankie to wash down the last bits. 

When you’d almost reached home, you heard Frankie clear his throat before he asked, 

“Did you like it?”

Turning to look at him you asked, 

“What, the farmer’s market?”

Frankie glanced at you and nodded briefly before turning his gaze back to the road. You were sure he could hear your smile when you told him, 

“Yeah of course I did! It was great.” Gently, you slid your fingers across your boyfriend’s neck and into his hair again, but decided against pulling it while he was driving. You scratched your nails against his scalp and he let out a pleased noise the sensation. 

“Thank you,” you told him quietly, “for bringing me along.” 

Frankie pulled the truck into the driveway and cut off the engine before he replied, 

“No need to thank me, I always want you around.” 

You couldn’t help but grin at him and, much to Frankie’s surprise and delight, you swung your leg over his and straddled him. You pushed his cap off his head so you could thread your fingers through his hair, watching as Frankie let his eyes slip shut. 

“Frankie?” 

“Hmm?” 

His eyes were still shut and you took a second to admire his handsome face. You leaned down and kissed his forehead before saying simply, 

“I love you.” 

Eyes still closed, Frankie’s face broke into a smile and you felt his big, warm hands at your back, pushing your closer to him. You went willingly and laid your head on his shoulder. Frankie’s voice floated gently down to your ears, 

“Guess what?” he asked, using a hand to pull lightly at your hair so you’d look up at him. 

“What?” You asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I love you too.”

All Frankie had to do was tip his head down slightly and your lips were on his and you kissed him, trying to cement the moment into your memory. When several minutes had passed, Frankie pulled back reluctantly and said, 

“Let’s get the food inside then we can continue this on the couch.” 

…

A few hours later, after more making out and a quick nap on the couch, Frankie offered to fire up the grill and make some steaks and veggies from your haul. You offered to make dessert and soon you were moving around each other in the kitchen, handing each other ingredients and laughing when you bumped into one another. 

You decided to make a peach cobbler and by the time you had it in the oven, Frankie was manning the grill, unabashedly wearing one of your flowery aprons to keep his jeans from getting dirty. With two beers in hand and a timer set on your phone so dessert wouldn’t burn, you stepped out onto the back porch and into the sweltering afternoon heat. Frankie was wiping sweat off his forehead when you handed him his drink, he thanked you with a smile before he focused back on the food. 

Knowing you wouldn’t get much conversation out of him while he was grilling (he had a method, he’d told you, and it required concentration) you decided to step down into your small backyard and water the flowers you’d planted in the spring. Once you were finished, you stood back, admiring how most of the blooms had stayed intact despite the heat, when Frankie whistled at you. You looked up and he was holding up a tray of food and motioning for you to follow him inside. 

Dinner was delicious and you told Frankie so. He ducked his head at the praise and insisted it was the freshness of the food and not his skill. When you were done, you loaded up the dishwasher and Frankie scooped out portions of the cobbler you’d made for both of you. He didn’t wait to take a bite and he moaned at the taste, 

“Honey, this is incredible.” 

You laughed and told him, 

“Nah, it’s just the fresh peaches.” 

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes at you before he fed you a bite and you had to admit, the cobbler was pretty damn good. Once the dishwasher was loaded, Frankie boosted you up onto the counter and handed you your own dessert and stood between your legs while he finished his. Neither of you spoke much, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable, just being close together was enough for the moment. 

When Frankie leaned up to kiss you once both of your bowls were in the sink, you could taste the peaches on his tongue and you sighed contentedly into his mouth. When you’d pulled apart for air, you noticed the sun was going down and pulled Frankie out onto the porch with you. 

“Wow,” you couldn’t help saying as the sky was painted pink and yellow and orange, like a pastel masterpiece just for the two of you to see. You didn’t notice, but Frankie was smiling softly at you while you admired the sunset, watching the golden hour lighting make your features seem to glow. 

He turned around and pulled one of the big wooden chairs to the railing and tugged on your arm so you’d sit with him. You slid sideways into his lap so you could still watch the sky and you felt Frankie’s arm curl around your side, sneaking his fingers under the waistband of your shorts to stroke the skin of your hip. Both of your hands reached for his free one and you massaged his fingers, taking care to rub each joint and knuckle, to soothe any aches he might not have mentioned. 

“I love your hands,”  you murmured quietly, shifting your grip to rub his palm and down his wrist. Frankie let out a low chuckle and replied, 

“You were a pretty big fan of them last night. You begged me not to stop, if I remember correctly.” 

Gasping as if you were scandalized, you released his hand to smack his chest lightly. Frankie laughed louder and wrapped both arms around you, squeezing you tight. You let your eyes close and pushed your nose into his neck, inhaling deeply. 

“Can I tell you something?” Frankie asked, voice low and raspy in your ear. You hummed your assent and he continued, 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.” You moved just slightly to press your lips against his neck and said, 

“Me either.” 

The two of you stayed on the porch, curled into each other, long after the sun had set and the fireflies had come out. You spoke to each other in low voices so as not to disturb the peace of the evening. Frankie was right, as usual, this was the happiest you’d ever been and you never wanted it to end. 


End file.
